


It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

by muscatmusic18



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Baking, Christmas Cookies, Cute, F/M, Flour Wars, Fluff, Implied Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 04:38:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8696842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muscatmusic18/pseuds/muscatmusic18
Summary: On their first Christmas together as a couple, Peggy and Daniel choose to make their own traditions by baking holiday cookies.





	

**Author's Note:**

> As an American, it is very strange to write 'Christmas biscuits' instead of 'Christmas cookies'.

“You know, it’s our first Christmas together while being in the same place at the same time.”

Peggy was curled up against Daniel’s side when he spoke, completely melted into him with his arm around her, hand tracing gentle shapes along her arm. “I suppose it will be. Do you suggest we should do something to commemorate the occasion?”

“Only if you want to. I thought it would be nice, doing something special together might make it truly seem like the holidays.”

She only hummed in response, her eyes a million miles away, obviously deep in thought. “My mum and I always made Christmas biscuits together; that could be fun for us.” She looked up at him, a childish gleam there that made her look like a teenager.

“Why in the world would you make biscuits for Christmas?” Daniel asked, teasing her about their many debates over the word.

She huffed. “You know what I mean. I refuse to call them ‘cookies’, that’s just ridiculous.”

He bit back his laugh, instead refocusing their conversation. “Okay.” He nodded. “One problem: While I can decorate them, who do you think is going to make the dough?”

“I will.” She sat up from his side. “Have you no confidence in me?” Peggy asked in mock offense, placing a hand on her chest.

“Hey, I’ve seen you cook, I’m just drawing from past experience.” He jested back, putting his hands up in defeat.

“Well, that is compelling evidence against me.” She sank back into his side. “But I can make biscuit dough.”

“Can you?”

“Believe it or not, yes. Mostly because that’s the only time I ever paid attention to any of the homey lessons my mother tried to beat into my skull.”

He chuckled, resting his forehead atop her head. “Peggy Carter loves Christmas so much that she actually paid attention to her housewife lessons?”

“Only time of year that I ever did. Mostly because my mum told me that it was a secret family recipe, and I think the ‘secret’ part really caught my attention.” She explained, resting her head against his chest and listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“Well then, let’s make Christmas cookies. Tomorrow, we can pick up cookie cutters and anything you need for the secret family recipe.” He squeezed her elbow lightly, tucking her further into his side.

“Careful, my mother might come after you if she learns I gave you the recipe before we were married.”

“My lips are sealed.” He made a locking motion against his lips.

She looked up to see him locking his lips and she snorted, lightly swatting his chest. “It’s not that big of a deal. Just Betty Crocker’s with a couple of modifications.”

He guffawed at that, a deep sound coming from the back of his throat. “How would you know? You’ve never looked in a Betty Crocker cookbook.”

She teasingly glared up at him. “You’re not going to get the recipe if you keep talking like that.”

“Alright, I give.” He surrendered.

The corners of his mouth twitched like he wanted to laugh or say something more, but she mostly let it slide. “Come on, wanker, let’s go to bed.” She stood and pulled him up with her, ignoring Daniel’s snorts of laughter.

~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, after Peggy had done her tally of what Daniel had in his pantry after she’d gone through and thrown out everything that was expired or had gone sour, the couple made their way to the market, shopping list in hand.

“If you go and find Gold Medal flour and powdered sugar I’ll get cream of tartar and orange extract. Then, we’ll meet over by the dairy-” She was interrupted by Daniel.

“Wait, cream of what?”

“Tartar. It’s in the spice section, used in baking.”

He stared at her blankly, waiting for an explanation.

“It’s… Well, I don’t know exactly know what it is, but it’s used in a lot of recipes; you cook, shouldn’t you know this?”

“Exactly, I cook, not bake.”

“Well, it doesn't matter, because I'm picking it up. Just get the flour and powdered sugar and meet me by the dairy.”

Daniel nodded, turning to find the baking aisle, only to turn back towards Peggy. “Wait, I thought I had powdered sugar?”

She looked over her shoulder, curls bouncing down her back as she continued to walk. “I threw it out.”

Confused by the woman who suddenly knew more than him when it came to the kitchen, Daniel complacently turned and found all the items on his list before wandering to find Peggy, who was checking eggs when he found her.

“Ah, good, I was just about to come find you.” She dumped her armful into their basket, setting the carton of eggs on top as Daniel looked through her ingredients.

“Sour cream? In cookies?” His eyebrows arched, mouth falling open and twitching in confusion and slight fear.

“Yes, one of the few modifications that my mother made. It makes them softer, but still hard enough to frost them.” She watched his mouth close, but some of the fear still resided in his eyes. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t affect the flavor. Now come on, let’s go look at biscuit cutters.” She took the basket from him so she link their arms, pressing close as she pulled him along.

Turning the corner of an aisle, they were faced with a wall of cookie cutters, all in different shapes, sizes, and colors.

“Would you like one shaped as a rooster?” Peggy asked, holding it up for him to see, a childish grin on her face.

He laughed. “Only if I can have the pig,” he countered, holding up his own discovery. 

Finally, they decided on a standard pack, with ornaments, angels, trees, and other Christmas looking items, along with one rooster, and one pig. 

Back at the house, they laid out their finds and split up the duties of wet and dry ingredients.

“Alright, if you can put in three cups of flour and a teaspoon of each baking soda and cream of tartar, then we can mix that into the wet mixture once I’m done with it.”

As Daniel followed her instructions, he watched her out of the corner of his eye, not bothering to suppress the smile tugging at his lip. He’d seen Peggy be a disaster in the kitchen, mostly too nervous to ever get a recipe right, but now here she was, no paper recipe and all confidence. It was nice to see her in a normal house setting. Gone were the eyes of steel and the impeccable aim, but instead were soft smiles and gentle hands; a side of Peggy Carter that no one else got to see but him, and for that, he was proud.

After a few minutes, Peggy combined the two mixtures while Daniel sat on his stool and watched, resisting the urge to blow flour into her hair and later admiring the rippling muscles of her arm as she gave up on a spoon and finished mixing with her hands,

“Now we let this chill for a few hours, and then we can roll it out and start building our farmyard.” Peggy joked, covering the bowl with a hand towel and closing the refrigerator with a bump of her hip.

“Oh, what shall we do for these hours?” He dramatized, pulling her into his open legs, hands resting on her waist.

“Well, if you have any ideas, I’m all yours.” She purred, wrapping her arms around his neck and batting her eyelashes.

“It involves moving to the bedroom, if you’re interested.” His lips brushed hers, not yet the deep kiss she so desperately wanted.

She hummed, a sinful sound as her breath ghosted over to the shell of his ear, “We don’t have to be in the bedroom. We could just stay here. There are sturdy items in here; tables and counters and such.”

Her teeth sunk into his earlobe, his breath hitching in his throat and all the blood rushing south.

Glancing over in surprise, he saw a fiery gleam in her eye and a minxish smile, carnal desire scrawled across her features and a flush spreading across her chest.

Swallowing thickly, he deftly worked the buttons of her blouse, tossing it to the ground and slipping to the edge of his stool to pull her flush to his body, lips descending to her neck as her giggles turned into gasps.

~~~~~~~~~

“Would you like breakfast or lunch, my dearest Peg?”

After their escapade in the kitchen, Daniel had dressed in his slacks once again, but since Peggy had decided to use his shirt as her entire wardrobe, he remained bare chested.

“I think breakfast would pair nicely with the gobs of dough and frosting we will be eating in an hour or two.” She answered as if critiquing fine wine, sitting on Daniel’s stool with a sated look about her.

“Pancakes, milady?” He offered his hand, bowing slightly like if he were asking her to dance.

“If you wouldn’t mind.” She took his hand, pulling herself off the stool.

“For you Peg, I’ll do anything.”

They enjoyed their brunch of pancakes and fruit on the couch, curled up in a soft blanket, all the while whispering to each other, occasionally an outburst of laughter sounding through the house, but mostly as silent as the first snow.

Finally, the few hours had passed, and after Peggy had changed into flannel bottoms and a t-shirt and Daniel into more comfortable pants and shirt, they were finally able to start the cookies.

“You roll out one half and I’ll do the other?” She handed him a chunk, dusting the counters and rolling pins with flour and setting to work.

For minutes they worked in silence, the clanking of the rolling pins the only sound as they stood side by side, elbows bumping and smiles exchanged; a purely peaceful moment in their crazy, hectic lives.

Taking a pinch of flour, Daniel spread it onto the pin, reaching for a pinch more when he remembered his urge to mess with Peggy, so instead of sprinkling it on the dough, he let out a short breath, sending the pinch into the air and effectively coating her shoulders and hair in the fine, white powder.

She turned, her look of disbelief undermined by the flour coating her cheek. “Is that how we’re going to play this?” 

Before he could react, she grabbed a pinch of her own, blowing it into his unruly curls, and effectively starting a war. The flour bag remained a neutral area neither hoarding it to their side, but everything else was fair game, and every tactic was used, whether it be blowing it into the other’s face or dropping a pinch down the back of a shirt.

Before Peggy could throw her latest handful, Daniel managed to grab her hips, pulling her close and trapping her hands by her sides. “We’re never going to get anything done if we keep up the battle of flour.”

She sighed, pulling up one corner of her mouth for a half smile. “I suppose you’re right. It’s a shame, though. I was just about to bring about to bring water into the game.”

“You wouldn’t.” He gasped, imagining the mess of paste that would have been created.

“You’ll never know. We’re not at war anymore, remember?” She managed to twist her wrists free, spreading her flour coated fingers down his shirt before dancing out of his reach.

He brushed the fingerprints off his chest as best he could, his sighs turning into laughs. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Her eyes softened, smile turning more affectionate than wicked. “I’m the luckiest girl in the world to be loved by you.”

Even though he’d heard her say the words before, his heart soared as though it was the first. Standing in front of him, covered in flour and mismatched pajamas, she was the most beautiful girl in the world.

“Come on.” She offered, pressing close to him. “Let’s get the first batch in the oven and then we can change.”

He picked up his rolling pin, brushing off the excess flour. “I think you look cute in flour-covered pajamas.”

She scoffed, yet she looked more flattered than anything. “Just work.”

~~~~~~~~~

The last batch was in the oven, and the first batch was cool enough to frost, and the couple was armed with an array of colors, everything from a soft purple to a vibrant green.

“Where did Daniel Sousa learn to frost Christmas biscuits with the precision of a professional?”

He shifted the bag in his hands, frosting the outline of each cookie with preciseness, not a crooked line to be found. “My cousin’s mother always made sweets around the holidays, and when we were younger, she would let us help frost the cookies.” He handed her a spoon and a toothpick. “Wait about a minute to let the border harden, and then fill in the frosting with the spoon. Then, watch for bubbles in the icing, and pop them with the toothpick when they appear.”

“You got it, Chief.” She said, setting to work on the first cookie.

For an hour, they did just that, Daniel drawing out the border, occasionally asking Peggy for her opinion on a color as she filled in the rest of the cookie. Seamless as a machine, they established a rhythm, able to work the entirety of the set without a hitch, ready to start adding the details to the ornaments, trees, and barnyard animals.

Daniel gazed at her, watching in fascination as she meticulously added lights to a tree, dropping each one on with a toothpick until she deemed it perfect, moving on to the next one and giving that one the same attention as she did the previous one. There was something relaxing about it, her attention to detail and monotony was soothing, lulling him into a daze.

Shaking his head, he looked back at his snowflake, casting glances her way every now and then, only to finally see the flour still stuck in her hair.

“It looks like there was a little snow storm that only hit you, dearest.” He laughed, wishing he had a camera to capture the moment.

Her hand shot to her hair, fingers coming away with the white powder, so she glared at him, walking to the other side of the counter to shake it out.

“This is all your fault.” She called, fingers still ruffling through her hair to get rid of all the powder. Walking back to her spot, she bumped his hip with hers, looking exasperated but the lip she had in between her teeth gave her away.

After hours of shopping, baking, and flour wars, they finally had a chance to reap their rewards, each getting to sample a few of the masterpieces they had created.

“After careful deliberation, I’ve decided I like the blue pig the best.” Peggy announced, resting her chin atop his head, wrapping her arms around his chest from where he sat.

“You know, I was just thinking the same thing.” He spun around to face her, placing his hands on her upper back.

“We’re going to have to give some of these away. There are far too many for us to eat by ourselves.”

“Maybe we can put them out in the office. As long as we don’t get rid of any of the blue pigs.”

“You have a deal, darling. Shall we toast?” She went and got two glasses from a cabinet, opening a bottle of wine and handing Daniel a glass.

“To old traditions.” He toasted.

“And to new ones we make along the way.” She added, clinking her glass with his, both savoring the taste across their tongues.

“How about we leave the dishes for tomorrow and curl up in bed instead?” Peggy proposed, setting her glass down, grabbing his hand.  
“That sounds like a perfect ending to a perfect day.”

For the rest of the night, the only thing heard was the soft melodies of Christmas songs crooning from the radio and the whispered words of love exchanged between the sweethearts, warm and content in bed.

**Author's Note:**

> The recipe that Peggy uses is my Grandma's, who really did just make a few modifications to Betty Crocker. They're somewhere in between Lofthouse soft and the original Betty Crocker, and they're very, very good.


End file.
